


as heroes we fall (and will rise again)

by Arianes



Category: Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Ultimate Universe, Young Avengers
Genre: Angst, Battleworld, Character Study, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, M/M, Secret Wars (2015), With Plot on the side, basically everyone's been in love with Kate Bishop at some point, implied past Cassie Lang/Kate Bishop, past Kate Bishop/Eli Bradley - Freeform, past Kate Bishop/Noh-Varr - Freeform, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:52:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianes/pseuds/Arianes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the SHIELD, America Chavez takes up the cause to defend the Battleworld from poisoned universes. Somewhere out there, Kate Bishop joins forces with Clint Barton to beat up bad guys. In Miami, Cassie Lang is <i>literally</i> dying of boredom. Battleworld's Manhattan 616 sees Eli Bradley once again fighting the good fight against um… he’s not quite sure who yet. Billy and Teddy are our star crossed lovers across the multiverse once again, and David really wants out of this whole superhero mess. Nobody’s sure where Noh-Varr went. (Tommy’s just here for the free friends)</p><p>Alternatively Titled: Secret Wars: The Young Avengers Book That We're Not Going to Get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. old made new and forgotten

### [LOCATION: THE WALL, BATTLEWORLD]

### [TIME: TOO LATE]

America takes one look at the sure-footed, sly-eyed, smirking Lady Katherine (Hawkeye) Bishop, and wants to throw up. She’s a spitting image of the woman America left behind all those months ago, and the ache of loss burning in the back of America’s throat uncomfortably resembles the still-sore ache from the loss of her mothers that has since settled somewhere under her collarbone.

Realistically, America should have expected something like this. She’s a transdimensional being, after all, and one of the only ones in Battleworld that can quickly and easily traverse the different domains, all of which are guaranteed to house at least one rendition of Kate Bishop. And Kate was (is) considered to be among the best of the best on SHIELD’s index, so it's only logical to assume that any version of her is too. It also makes complete sense that any version of Kate would get into enough trouble to land herself a spot on the SHIELD.

So when Abigail Brand vaguely waves hands and spouts names, she reminds herself, this is her life now, with this _Katherine_ , not with the Young Avengers and Kate. Keep them separate. (A tiny part of her still wants to stomp back to Arcadia like the petulant teenager she still is) Instead, America keeps her face in a stone-frozen mask, and makes unwavering eye contact with Lady Katherine.

And she says, “Hey, princess.”

There’s the briefest possible flash of confusion and annoyance that breaks through that confident mask. For the briefest possible moment, America can pretend this is her Kate in front of her, the one that had (has) nasty spats with her as many times as she had (has) unanimous agreements with her. The one that thought (thinks) it was (is) adorable when America pulled (pulls) out her intimidation tactics and thought (thinks) it was (is) hot when she starts punching things. The one who matched and will always match her blow for blow, against and with her, because that’s just how amazing they were together. The fantasy is a breath of fresh air in this hellscape, and absolutely worth the grief that causes the unfamiliar pressure in the back of her impassive eyes.

(and if later America does teleport away to a dark desolate corner in the Deadlands and takes several (hundred) dry, gravelly, choked up, heaving breaths (sobs), well.

that's for her to deny and for no one to ever find out.)

### [LOCATION: SOMEWHERE SNOWY, EARTH-616]

### [TIME: SOMETIME BETWEEN SAVING THE MULTIVERSE AND SAVING THE MULTIVERSE]

Kate halts in the middle of a firefight with a bunch of HYDRA goons, suddenly sure that something, somewhere in the universe had just been set to rights in a way that makes her want to scream to the skies with happiness. Her blood fills with jittery adrenaline, and sets fire a physically-painful urge to get back to New York.

“Hold that thought,” she tells the man next to her, and proceeds to plant a smoke-bomb in his bug-eyed face. In a slight trance, she pulls out her phone of all things, and brings up her contacts. She thumbs down to America’s beautiful face, tempted to call her maybe-(girl)friend for a quick trip. And for some reason, she scrolls even farther down to Cassie Lang’s pixelated face, and has the urge to call the number in order to hear the voice she hasn’t heard in years.

(it took her six months and a network provider call to get her to stop leaving voicemails and text messages to Cassie’s number)

“Katie, now is _really_ not the time to check your twitters,” quips Clint behind her, and his voice cutting through the fog is enough to snap her out of her stupor.

“Yeah, sorry,” Kate says, loss, confusion, and disappointment evident in her voice, though she has no idea why. She goes back to kicking the stuffing out of the male agents (and she did always wonder why HYDRA only hired male goons), but it takes a few minutes for the feeling to fade.

(lies. it takes weeks and all the while a nasty feeling lurks in the back of her mind, saying _you missed your chance._ )

### [LOCATION: CLINT'S APARTMENT, EARTH-616]

### [TIME: THE END]

Two months later, Kate gets that same gut feeling, except this time, the adrenaline pounding through her head is fueled by fear and an intense grief. It presses at the back of her skull and she again suddenly knows that a monumental, literally-earth shattering event is taking place.

She wants to run out onto the streets of New York screaming bloody murder, but Clint's still out with the Avengers. There's a price on several necessary parts of her body, and as much as she is confident in handing out justice while going solo, the whole of HYDRA, the Russian mob, and several factions of a mafia are a bit much for one girl to handle. Hence the chilling-with-the-pizza-dog thing.

Surprisingly, the past few days have been relatively peaceful. No running and nearly-dying on rooftops or pissed off attractive ladies currently after Kate's pretty face (well, there's still Madame Masque but Kate's relatively sure she's still in LA doing nefarious and evil things). Her dad hasn't called in over 24 hours, her sister's texted her exactly once in the past week (progress!), and America and her have been texting and on the phone every chance they get. They talk about the most mundane things, but Kate often finds herself smirking at and generally enjoying America's dry humor. No super villains have broken into the apartment so far, and being off duty plus its benefits has really helped Kate find her zen mode.

Kate actually almost gets to the point of turning off her phone so she can get off Yamblr and focus on her cable TV yoga. But as she goes to turn it off, that awful gut feeling shoots through her and America's caller ID pops up on the screen.

Well. Goodbye middle-aged wannabe yoga mom, hello awesome ass-kicking (girl)friend.

"Yo," Kate oh-so-eloquently greets.

_"Princess, you'd better -- in New Yor--,"_ America yells over some very loud background garble, discernible words weaving in and out of static.

Zen definitely ruined. "Yeah, I'm at Clint's, why?" She says tensely.

_"Good. Whate--- you do, do. -ot. Move. Stay right -- there unt-"_ America gets cut of in a final crackle of static.

Kate pulls the phone down and stares at it as the uncomfortably tingling adrenaline rises to a dull roar in her ears that clouds her brain and slows her thoughts and comprehension. And not knowing what possesses her to do it, she thumbs down to Cassie Lang’s name and calls.

(in actuality kate knows why. the world’s once again balanced on a knife’s edge, she can feel it in the air. It feels identical to the moments before Cassie died, and Kate is breathing out tension and loss and the knowledge that this is it. the end’s finally here, and she knows it in her bones. it feels drastically different but so much the same as every other time. Kate will always ache with the need to hear her voice one more time before the world inevitably ends)

The dial tone rings four times.

_brrriiinnng._

__

_brrriiinnng._

__

_brrriiinnng._

__

_brrriiinnng--_

_“Hey, you’ve reached Cassie, who’s this?”_ Cassie’s cheery voice rings into her left ear, and for one absurd second Kate thinks that the voicemail’s changed.

“Cassie?! You’re- what the hell?! ” She gets out in a strangled voice as soon as it clicks that _oh my god Cassie’s alive._ A stunned silence fills both ends of the phone.

_“Kate?”_ The simplistic surprise in her voice starts wrecking Kate’s sanity.

“Cassie, I-”

A sudden star glows on the wall, and breaks with a sharp crack!, sending bits of dimensional wall flying across the living room. Kate jumps back as America, Tommy, David, Billy, and Teddy fall out of it to sprawl onto the floor. America scrambles up unceremoniously, looking as wild-eyed and unkempt as Kate’s ever seen her. The rest of the boys stare up at them from the floor.

“Um, America, what’s happening?” Kate still doesn’t get why America’s dumped all their friends on Clint’s floor after a shady phone call. America stares out her for a second (it's another one of those sexily exasperated _princess, please_ looks), then points out the window, out past the fire escape. And the world’s definitely ending. Kate really doesn’t know how she missed _the giant fucking planet descending out of the sky,_ and _oh_ so _that’s_ the source of her fight-or-flight nerves and the tingling adrenaline.

America’s voice cuts through her staring. “I can’t explain it and don’t ask how I know, but this Earth and that Earth up in the sky are pretty much the only things left in this whole fucking multiverse. And in five minutes, the only thing left of _this_ Earth is going to be New York.”

“What?! Literally?!?,” Tommy’s voice climbs in pitch as his words mash together. “There’s _nothing_ we can do?!”

America shrugs with tense shoulders. “Don’t know, but people have already tried. This is your best shot right now, _chico._   _I_ have got to hightail it out to a safehouse to ride this out, but,” She turns to Kate. “I’ve got room for one more kick within this universe. If you’ve got anyone you want to save,” America looks pointedly at the phone. “I can take them with me.”

Kate snaps into hyperfocus, remembering that _Cassie Not-Dead Lang_ was still on the line. “Fine. Cassie, where are you? I need a city, state, and address,” she commands, and clicks on speakerphone. Cassie rattles off a string of words and numbers (Miami? Really?), and Kate nods to America in a silent of understanding of _take her with you. save her._

“Cassie, I need you to trust me,” Kate feels the anxiety beginning to bubble up in her gut again, and starts pouring desperation into her words. “The world’s ending and a woman in basically the American flag is going to kick the wall out somewhere near you. Go with her, and you’ll be ok, I promise.”

There’s two seconds (eons) of deliberation, but Kate knows (knew) Cassie. She knows why Cassie became a superhero and it wasn’t because she didn’t take absurd risks.

_“Ok.”_

“And Cassie?”

_“Yeah?”_

“I’ve missed you so much, I’m sorry I didn’t call you before, I’m so, so sorry, for um. Everything.”

_“Kate,”_ Cassie is silent for a few tense moments before saying softly, _“You don’t have to be.”_

Kate squeezes her eyes shut, her throat closing and tears threatening to surface. “Bye, Cassie,” she croaks out, and ends the call with abruptness. Like tearing off the bandaid.

The boys had enough common sense to flee from a crying Kate, who often quickly redirects her sadness into anger and getting shit done. She can hear them on the fire escape, bemoaning the end of the world.

Before she has to join them and start thinking about everything she’s just gained and lost in a space of three minutes, America captivates her attention with a simple–

“I think I love you.” And Kate freezes, because wow as far as her memory serves her, that’s the first time anyone’s ever said that to her in at least a decade.

But because it’s the end of the world as she knows it, she stuffs all her internal screaming and terror away, and says to herself, _this is it. This could be the last time anyone says that to you ever again. Don’t lose that chance just like you just lost Cassie._ She squares her body and jaw in front of America and says with a quiet boldness, “I think I could have fallen in love with you.”

America stares back at her with grief in her eyes and a mouth set in a resigned line. Kate absently notes that the sadness softened America’s features and frames the lost and worn-out woman America protects with every punch and kick. America turns away to hide her face and the beginnings of a star glow on the wall. One sharp kick shatters it, and before she steps through, over her shoulder America utters-

“Princess, don’t worry about me. We’ll meet again.”

(Kate knows that line doesn’t ever hold true in their line of business, she’s seen it uttered between dozens of people. it breaks her fucking heart into a million pieces to hear it aimed at her)

### [LOCATION: MIAMI, FLORIDA, EARTH-616]

### [TIME: TO BE A TEENAGE SUPERHERO]

Cassie Lang is bored. Out. Of. Her. Mind.

Coming back to life hadn’t been all that easy. Remembering everything that happened, including the dying-a-horrible-death thing, really had not been the greatest for her psyche. So when her mom suggests that try to live a “normal” life for a while? Not a problem. The various numbers she had for Kate, Teddy, Billy, Eli, and Tommy have all changed anyway, except for Tommy’s, which is the same exact blur of words telling the caller to not to bother leaving a message. And when she looked up the Young Avengers, there hadn’t been anything for the past three years, so she assumed they’d all grown up and moved on in the past few years she’d been, _ahem_ , away.

But when her mom up and says they’re moving to Miami? No. No way. New York was her home. Cassie Lang was born in a New York hospital, bled in Brooklyn back alleys, and died on Manhattan’s streets. She may not be a superhero any more, but New York was as good as her city.

Because of course the universe is out to get her, Miami, has to be literally picture perfect. And once her initial anger at her mother burns off, she’s even grateful that they’ve moved there. No need to constantly try to save people, and more importantly, no one telling her off for trying to save people. That was her dad’s job again, and finally, _finally_ maybe she could be happy leading a relatively normal life.

Except Cassie didn’t quite forsee the damsel-in-distress thing that would come with being a sort-of superhero’s daughter. It was a bit annoying, but she couldn’t help feeling a little exhilarated when Crossfire shows up asking for her heart. Literally. And maybe she lets him take her on purpose (because a girl needs some excitement sometimes). Don’t tell. Unfortunately, she didn’t anticipate that stupid Darren Cross was behind this. Her detective skills were _super_ rusty.

It especially sucked when he took her heart. Life-dependant surgery hurt, she should know. But hey, free new heart out of the deal, and minimal Pym particle loss.  Honestly she was glad to be rid of the thing. Though it had been (mostly) fixed, but constantly growing and shrinking put strain on it. She never told her mom, but every time she grew, she could feel not-so-phantom pain pulling in her chest. But that’s gone now, so, well, happy days.

(everyone was so stupid in expecting her to lose her powers just because Darren Cross took some Pym particles. Cassie really had no hope for some of these so-called doctors. she freaking _irradiated_ herself for godssake. it’s not like the particles went, _oh, maybe we should converge on this broken mass of muscle instead of dispersing evenly_. No, Cassie was _fifteen-freaking years old_ and even she could figure out that the Pym particles literally _everywhere else_ in her body would shift a bit and put some excess ones in the shiny new ticker. bam. powers preserved.)

Then her dad up and left right after. Yeah. Bad move dad, reminding his recently undead daughter that he too was relatively recently undead (and therefore very much mortal), and could leave (die) again at anytime.

And so could she.

(Kate’s call doesn’t help with that matter. ex-best friends and their unneeded but warranted guilt never are the bearers of good news. but hey, world’s ending, her dad’s gone fucking _again_ , and cassie wants to grind hope down to a paste under her heel. so why the hell not go with the star-spangled lady and leave her father _just like_ he left her.

there’s a flame beneath her ribcage and an inferno in her soul and cassie’s just so. damn. tired. of being the angst in someone else’s story.

she’s a goddamn superhero. time for her to act like it.) 


	2. of the end and a beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, for the million year wait, i was feeling indecisive. i also desperately wanted to let tommy, teddy, and billy on the action, but alas, eli turned out to be a much better muse than anticipated. oh well.
> 
> also: katie bishop refers to the Ultimates version of kate bishop, if that's not entirely clear

###  **[LOCATION: MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, EARTH-616]**

###  **[TIME: 7 MINUTES BEFORE THE END TIMES]**

Eli Bradley takes one look at the planet hanging in the sky and says–

“Fuck no.” (seven minutes left)

He had three years, three blissfully peaceful years in Arizona, away from alien invasions, away from mad villains, and more importantly, away from friends that guilt him into superheroing. He had built a normal life, did normal things, and the most extreme thing he did was join the local Ferguson and Baltimore protests (what can he say? eli can’t stand the bullies).

But the one time he visits his grandparents in New York? The world ends, because honestly what other option is there in his completely normal life.

Eli had stepped out from the subway stairs two minutes ago, fully expecting normal Manhattan, full of tourists, businesspeople, and cranky New Yorkers. Instead, he finds the Avengers and (what looks like) a major extinction event hanging over his head.

Eli spends a solid minute with his tongue clenched between his teeth, stood stock still and seriously contemplating throwing away every ounce of pride and running back to Brooklyn, to Arizona, to safety. (six minutes left)

(again, eli knows that he's purposefully avoided the superheroing, but this? this is bigger than he's ever seen, heroes’ figures dotted throughout the sky like raindrops, huge blasts of energy and destruction ripping through the sky every half second, and the heavy scent of fresh blood and ozone hanging in the air)

In the end, Eli knows when and where he's needed. He's a natural born leader, and can read situations like he reads the morning paper. And now? Well.

Eli pulls out his phone and calls in backup.

Looking up (and running toward an alleyway hurriedly), Eli starts counting hero heads. Thor, Captain America, Captain Marvel, Black Bolt, Medusa, Storm, the Guardians of the Galaxy, all the flying heavy hitters accounted for. They’re all busy with various weaponry floating down from the other Earth. He can't see any other players in the sky or on the rooftops in front of him, but even if anyone's operating from the rooftops, it's going to be a thousand times quicker than moving through the chaos on the streets.

The phone rings in his ear as he sprints across rooftops, the tinny rings barely decipherable through the noise and clambering happening around him.

“Come on, come on,” Eli grits his teeth as he dances across rooftops. (five minutes left)

The dial tone rings and rings and rings and finally–

“Hey, you’ve reached the better Hawkeye, leave your message at the tone!” Kate’s recorded voice spouts words that are _wasting time._

_Beep._

“Kate, listen, it’s Eli. Please tell me you’re in New York and somewhere near Bishop Publishing. There’s an incursion happening, and I don’t know if you’ve been following the incursions, but this one. This one’s different.” He pauses and catches his breath. “Kate, I need help. I know I’ve been an absolute jerk to you, but we’re Avengers. The world needs our help.” He pulls down the phone and hangs up without another word. (four minutes left)

Eli may have gotten out of the superhero business, but being a hero is in his blood. Eli Bradley was no longer Patriot, but his grandfather’s call for justice and righteousness still sang in his veins. This is the thought and the force that propels across one last alleyway into a derelict warehouse with faint paint spelling out Bishop Publishing. Inside is echoing, gutted, empty, and devoid of life and the sounds of outside destruction. Eli drifts over to the west wall, and opens a locker newer than the rest of the building, but still just as worn and tired. In it, sits a single shield, untouched by the passage of time. The shield is hope and disappointment, destruction and peace. Eli had sealed it away years before, swearing to never wield it again. But the world needs it, and him behind it. He raises it into the light once again.

(three minutes left)

Eli emerges from the building, red and white bandana around his lower face and hoodie covering his head. The shield is welded to his arm, and the heart of the fight is a block west. He runs and joins the fray. He ushers civilians out of harm’s way, launches himself at mechanical warriors come to ensure the strange Earth’s survival. He does what he needs to do to survive.

(two minutes left)

A screaming, wailing, whistling, hollow, deafening sound cuts through the white noise of the city’s destruction. It washes through Eli, chilling him to the bone despite the hot desperation coursing through him. He looks to the sky bleeding orange-red, and hanging there, almost peacefully, is the _fucking Phoenix Force_.

Buildings start to collapse around him, as It’s words ring out across the city. (one minute left)

_“Listen to me… you can’t kill an idea.”_

Six blocks away, the Young Avengers listen to the same words as the city crumbles down around them.

_“It always comes back.”_

His phone rings a block away, buzzing in the locker he left it in. (kate bishop is coming to his aid, but eli doesn’t know it. he has never known it.)

_“Resurrected.”_

A green blur catches in the corner of his eye, but it’s gone by the time he turns his head.

_“Or reborn.”_

Eli Bradley is no longer a civilian. Covered in ash and blood, an Avenger is reborn into the world. (five)

Just as he steps back into the role of Patriot, the sky cracks open with a ear-splitting shriek, radiating purple and bleeding out across the sky. Eli slows to a stop. He takes in the destruction around him. (four)

Electricity crackles in the air and the smell of ozone clouds the atmosphere. People scream and the world starts to burn. (three)

A tidal wave of exhaustion and helplessness takes over Eli. He fights it with every ounce of hope and power he has left. He pushes on for his grandfather, for his uncle, for his friends, for the Earth. But he knows. (two)

It’s over. (one)

Silence reigns. The world goes white.

(the end times are here)

(eli bradley of earth 616 dies terrified, scared, and far from home, far from friends, family, and everything he’s ever known)

-

###  **[LOCATION: MANHATTAN 616]**

###  **[TIME: e̸͘i̵̡g͢h҉͜t҉͝se̶̕v̧͠e҉͟n̢şix̵̸f̴̢͢i͡ve̴f̸o͜r̢͘ęve̛r̨̕ YEARS LATER]**

Eli Bradley bolts upright among worn sheets, panting, while beads of sweat carve burning trails of primal fear down his temples. A phantom adrenaline pounds through his bloodstream, screaming a visceral chant of fight or flight (findthemfindthemthisiswrongfindthembesafe). He gulps down breaths of apartment air, desperately trying to recall the heart pounding dream (memory) quickly slipping out of his grasp.

(stepping out of the subway into blinding daylight)

(people fall from the sky like hail and a dark stormy mirror of a planet hangs from the sky)

(reality shatters around him, cascading into a thousand sharp shards of his existence ripping apart)

Eli slides shakily out of the bed and bedroom, mind desperately banning the remnants of the nightmare (memory).

His grandmother sits at the well-used kitchen table, not glancing up from her newspaper (it reads the same every day).  He walks down the hallway, slowing to glance into the room where his grandfather sits, eternally staring out the window. In all of Eli’s ei҉̸g͡ht͏̨ȩe̡n years in this house, he’s rarely moved, rarely talked, forever living out (mourning) whatever tainted and tarnished memories live inside his own head.

(there are whispers of a secret history, of how isaiah bradley was once a powered super soldier, fighting in a place called america and for a thing called freedom. but eli ignores them, because he knows that there is no “america”, and knows there is nothing to fight for anymore, nothing but doom.)

He walks the campus of his local college. With every step he takes, the feeling of deja vu increases. He’s walked this street many times before, he knows, but he doesn’t know exactly how long. Some days it feels as if he’s been here since the beginning of time, and other days, it feels like he got here yesterday. 

(the deja vu been there for the past e͢ig͝ht҉͘s͘҉e͜͢͝v͟͡éņ̶͠si͘͢x͠f̢͡į̡̕v̸͟ęf̷o̧͢r̡e͡v͝e͢r years, but he ignores it every time he steps through those doors emblazoned with Doom’s emblem. he yearns to grab the nearest passerby, and shake them until they give the answers he needs. and deep in the back of his mind, a voice whispers _don’t, not yet, wait for the others_ )

He drifts into his 8:30am Metaphysics lecture, somehow five minutes late for the first time in his l̜̹͜on͎̺g̖͢ life. He drops into a seat next to a cute girl with blindingly pink bangs. Also somehow for the first time in his life, the professor hasn’t actually made it to class yet. So Eli gets the brilliant (read: dumb) idea to make small talk. 

“I haven’t seen you around before. I’m Eli Bradley.”

The girl looks put off and slightly surprised, and bites her lip. “Yeah, I just um, got, no, moved here.” She sticks her hand out uncertainly. “I’m Katie Bishop.” He grasps her hand–

And it all comes rushing back.

(a pale hand gloved in forest green grips his memories, tearing away the old to expose–

 

(echoes of pills clinking in a glass cup ring in his ears while his grandfather stares at the wall)

 

(a mirror reflects a mask of red and a hood of blue and a shield made of lies)

 

(six naive teenagers look to him for leadership, and he thinks _what the hell am i doing_ )

 

(a teenage girl clad in purple whips by, armed with a bow and a sharp grin and he's in love)

 

(a needle filled with false hope and false strength)

 

(the girl in purple again, looking at him with soft eyes and a sad smile)

 

(all consuming fury as a dishrag of a man dares to take his name and soak it in the blood of thousands)

 

(a dead man’s howl of grief permeates air that’s choked with dust and blood)

 

(a winged hero looking into his eyes, asking for him to become more than he can ever be)

 

(a young woman’s voice on the phone, begging him for help he knows he cannot give, not anymore)

 

(then the world ends)

 

(a world starts anew)

 

And Eli blinks back into reality with _Kate Bishop_ dragging him through the quad, muttering to herself. He yanks his arm from her weak grip angrily, causing her to stumble backwards into him. It’s only then that he notices the bright pink streak and how young she is. She's a good 6 inches smaller than him, and he definitely remembers arguing with Kate nose-to-nose. Something’s off.

“Do you know who you are? Do you know who _I_ am?” He says tersely, dreading the answer. She shrinks away from him, so much more timid than her counterpart.

“No, I swear, I, I just met you. Um, you had some kind of seizure, and I had to get you out of there and–”

Eli wants to believe everything she says, he really does. The girl seems to wear her ever-shifting emotions on her sleeve. But Eli knows better.

And so does Katie.

(any version of her knows better, in any universe, any dimension. Kate Bishop is not to be underestimated. she was an unstoppable force, protected by her shield of half twisted truths and sword-like shards of broken relationships, and went up against Eli, the immovable object to her unstoppable force. he knows how she works, even when she doesn't know herself. he is her equal and partner, trying to be all and nothing all at once)

(but Kate Bishop is a hurricane, immortal monarch, and small town girl all trapped under fragile skin barely strong enough to contain her. it is not in her nature to play fragile mistress to another soul. the woman needs no protection and, goddamn, she knows it.)

Kate’s timid exterior shutters away like a camera click. She peers at him for a long moment, wearing a scapel-sharp expression entirely designed to pierce his eyes and dissect his soul.

He matches her intensity with his own stone-set expression, determined not to show his emotional imbalance and turmoil.

(too late. this is kate bishop here.)

Her eyes soften for a fraction of a second, enough to relay sorrow _, sadness,angerlonging_ and betrayal pricks on his wrist and—

_(darkness clouds in)_

He opens his eyes to a relatively empty warehouse. The sun bleeds through translucent windows, the air lies still above him. A lone set of destroyed lockers rest against a wall and Katie Bishop rests in a dirty plastic chair, watching him with apathy.

They take each other in for a long moment, having missed the opportunity in their earlier interaction.

She breaks first, and bites her lip, lowering her head without breaking eye contact. "Sorry about that," Katie shrugs slightly, "You were reclassified as a Case 616 at the last second. I had to get you out safe."

He squints, eyebrows drawing together and eyes scrunching in suspicion. "616?"

She draws in and lets out a long breath. "Long story, one you'll hear from people more important than me."

There's the Kate he knows. "Kate-I mean, Katie. Stop undervaluing yourself."

She squints back for a long second before reaching up to her ear. "Hawkingbird to Prodigy, Case 616P is more advanced than anticipated. Advancing directly to Phase 5.”

Eli leans away warily, unwilling to find out what ‘Phase 5’ is, considering the ‘Phase 3’ he just went through. Katie sees this and rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath.

The destroyed lockers turn out to reveal a descending staircase that ultimately led out to a long hallway, full of (familiar?) young adults and teenagers, bustling about and brushing past.

Katie turns him down corridor after corridor, lulling him into a state of apathy and boredom (and honestly, all he wants to do is whine ‘are we there yet? how about now? now?)

They suddenly stop at a door, embezzled with more security than the rest.

Eli looks questioningly at Katie, who just gestures to the door. Eli opens it with no resistance and he turns away from Kate Bishop to face—

Kate Bishop.

(he sees her and his inner turmoil freezes. something whispers to him.)

(you're home)

She stands in front of a bank of computer monitors, back turned to Eli. A figure sitting next to her taps away at an unseen keyboard, gesturing to the monitors, rapidly flashing through what seems like various news sources and field reports. From across the room, Eli’s enhanced vision can only catch brief snatches of phrases _(–e Blue and the Iro–, –CATION: ARCADI–, 1602 and –––SHIE–, america cha–.)_

The figure silhouetted by monitors distracts Kate with low tones, and before Katie can announce their presence or he can lose his adrenaline, Eli calls out across the room. “Replaced me so soon?”

He can see Kate's back stiffen and can hear her sharp intake of breath from 15 feet away. She turns sharply with a million volt smile on her mouth and bewilderment and undiluted joy in her eyes.

“Yeah,” she smiles and nods slightly, “but not with this one.”  Her mouth and mind tease, but her body and eyes are grimacing and bracing against the impact of their interaction. Eli’s quiet snort of amusement is loudly audible in the dark room filled with the quiet hum of servers and soft breaths. (he ignores her pain and she ignores his)

“How hot is he then?” He smirks back. (Eli knows he shouldn’t even bother to try to hold her down. he learned that lesson the hard way.)

Kate bites her lip and avoids his gaze. “She, actually.” Oh. Well. That’s new. (Eli still feels sorry for the poor girl who got hooked on Kate Bishop. it’ll only end in anger and heartbreak.) “David here is team coffee boy, he knew all of our orders before we even met him.” She smiles teasingly, trying to lift the heavy mood that’s settled between them.

The chair next to her turns around, and the clearly exhausted man in it gives her a fond glare. “Not funny,” he scolds gently, but obviously is cheered by the comment. He gets up stiffly, cracking various joints along the way.

“David Alleyne, official head strategist, official head team manager, and unofficial babysitter of almost everyone,” David says dryly, offering a gloved hand. Eli doesn’t question it.

(a girl dressed in the wrong shade of forest green and a hair streak the color of snow had offered a similarly gloved hand, somewhen.)

The shadow that is Katie Bishop disappears from his side, and the door behind Eli softly clinks shut.

David is abruptly all business. “What do you about the multiverse theory?”

“I know that it’s true? I mean a lot of stuff with the Avengers proved that, and–”

(Eli’s head fills with burning) His eyes fill with confusion.

(memories split in half) Two figures lunge for him.

(two timelines fight and _brawl and scream for control under a hand that tries to merge them. and over again. again. again. again. again._

His hearing fades in (and out) first.

“–dvanced too fast, overlo–” gray voices fill his skull and drain out of the cracks in it

“–see to this, don’t know if he’ll make i–” _Who is he?_ , he wonders.

“–ny more reports for me?” Kate trickles in and doesn’t trickle out.

His eyes flutter open, and David and Kate are talking over his body laying on a bench.

Kate notices his awakened state first, and looks at him kindly, having learned the illusion of motherly compassion somewhere. “You got your head sorted out?”

He blinks, easing himself up with success. “Yeah… what the fuck was that?” he questions David, who looks at him honestly.

“That was your mind making sense of your life. Usually it doesn’t happen that fast, but you _are_ a 616 case so… you know I’ll just go get your stuff. It’ll help make sense of everything,” he says as Teddy and Billy tumble into the locker room, smiling and laughing in their shared little personal bubble, still as much in love as when he last saw them (what’s he saying. love practically radiates out of their pores now, screaming, _that one’s mine and i’m his and goddamn how i get so lucky.)_ It takes them a solid five seconds for Kate to clear her throat, smiling slightly and infected by their joy, until Eli spits out the questions that’s been sitting at the back of his throat since he found himself with another set of memories and an unexpected reunion.

“Where’s everyone else?” 

Kate’s eyes snap over to his and she stares. Sight fades from her eyes as a door slams shut behind them. She bites a cheek.

“Gone.” And she goes too, out of the room. (away from them, her ever dutiful representatives of the pain and the loss)

Teddy watches her go, and spares Eli the tragedy. “We don’t know. But we do know that something’s wrong with the multiverse, and _something_ is calling us to fix it.

 

(then pick up your goddamn phone teddy altman, don’t just listen to your ringtone)

 

“Eli. We need you. We’re different people now, but this is bigger than all of us, and we need you and Kate to lead us again.”

David silently comes over and places the broken pieces of his hidden heritage on the bench in front of him. Eli brushes the blood red fabric reverently, timelines and new and full understanding of Doom’s universe settling into place in his head. (ring ring. pick up your phone eli bradley. leadership is calling and wants you back)

Eli straightens and grips the red domino mask tightly, his mouth set in a grim line. “Well, we better get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the secret title of this story is "ode to kate bishop".

**Author's Note:**

> As I'm sure you've noticed, I've ignored some of the existing canon about these characters in Secret Wars, like America retaining her memory, Cassie being in high school, Eli _existing_ , etc. I'm going to try to stick to the generalities of Secret Wars the best I can, as this story is designed to be an exploration of what's going on inside most of the Young Avengers' heads during the event. But at some point, I may want to extend this into a rewrite of Secret Wars with ~plot~ and stuff, so I'm sticking to facts that works with this verse, and like all fan writers, ignoring the ones that do not.
> 
> That said, the next chapter will continue with the boys, though I may or may not split their stories up into two chapters.


End file.
